


(Not) Sharing is Caring

by merycula (thanksillpass)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 12:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2025321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanksillpass/pseuds/merycula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i saw a “reached for the last snack item at the same time au" somewhere and it all went downhill from there</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Not) Sharing is Caring

Himuro’s eyes lit up when he finally noticed the Cream Stew flavored Maiu-bo – it was the last one too! He reached for the snack, only to close his palm on someone else’s hand. Startled, he moved his hand slightly to the side, but his instinct stopped him from letting go of the pack entirely. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at the other person and his eyes widened in mild shock – the guy was _huge._ Now, Tatsuya was tall but the boy next to him was a giant and he couldn’t help but feel intimidated just from that. Still, he tilted his head to the side and smiled.

“Do you mind?” he said. “They’re my friend’s favorite.”

The guy scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Himuro. “So? They’re _my_ favorite. Let go.”

Tatsuya felt his brow twitch. Childish logic, unpleasantly commanding tone of voice and overall hostility told him more than he needed to know about that boy – there was no peaceful way to resolve the problem. This was war.

“Why don’t _you_ let go? We reached for it at the same time.”

“I’m holding the most of it,” replied the boy, turning around to face Himuro, never letting go of the snack. “It’s obviously mine.”

“Well, your hand is bigger, it’s unfair.”

“Unfair?” drawled the guy. “Sweets are justice.”

Tatsuya blinked before letting a soft, amused chuckle escape him. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It so does,” grumbled the kid, tightening his grip on the snack and tugging lightly. “Now let go before I bite your hand off.”

“You don’t scare me.”

He did scare him. Kind of. To some extent. But one of Himuro’s talents was keeping his cool in all sorts of situations and never letting his face reflect his emotions. The guy let out a curious hum and swept over Tatsuya with bored eyes before finally settling on his face. Himuro was never embarrassed with people staring at him, unlike Taiga for example, but something about that boy’s eyes made him twitch uncomfortably. Still, he was determined to get that damn Maiu-bo so he would hold his piercing gaze no matter what.

“This is boring,” said the guy eventually. “Let go, I wanna eat it already.”

Tatsuya couldn’t help but laugh because that kid never even entertained the idea of letting Himuro have the snack. “I politely refuse.”

The boy growled in frustration and tugged sharply at the snack, taking Himuro’s hand with it. He frowned in confusion, clearly unprepared for encountering resistance – but Tatsuya knew how to hold on to things in order not to lose them. He smiled friendlily but didn’t bother hiding the competitive gleam in his eyes. When the guy raised a surprised eyebrow at him, Himuro knew he caught the bait.

“Since clearly neither of us is willing to let go, how about we fight for it in a _just_ fashion?” he proposed. “Like, rock-paper-scissors?”

He was taking quite a risk there, because he didn’t like leaving anything to luck, but he had a feeling that neither did the boy in front of him. Judging by his height, there was a rather high probability that he played basketball, just like Tatsuya, so there was hope for resolving it on the court and walking off with the snack and a boosted ego. He waited patiently for the decision, flexing his hand on the snack absentmindedly.

“I only play to win,” said the kid finally. “I don’t see the point of doing anything if I’m not winning for sure. That’s why jan-ken-pon is stupid.”

Himuro smirked, ignoring the questionable and single-minded logic behind those words for the time being . “Is there something you’re good enough at that you’re positive of winning?”

“Basketball, I guess…” muttered the guy, scratching his cheek with his free hand.

Tatsuya almost sobbed in triumph. Sure, the guy was huge and those hands could probably hold two basketballs at once each, but Tatsuya was confident in his own skills – in the fruits of his own hard work. He’d been training like crazy in America and a little match with someone clearly above the average of the Japanese standards would be perfect to test the effects.

“How about a one-on-one, then? The winner takes the snack, the loser pays for it. I’ve passed a street court on the way here, it’s not far.”

The guy nodded curtly. “You pay, you’re gonna lose anyway.”

Himuro chuckled and nodded, carefully taking the Maiu-bo from the huge hand, mindful of the suspicious stare directed at him. Ah, it hurt to be distrusted so much – three years ago he would have darted off with the snack in a heartbeat, but now his honor was at stake. Or something like that. In any case, the game would probably just as much fun as dining and dashing.

“Your name,” mumbled the kid suddenly, reminding Tatsuya about his bad manners.

“Oh, I’m sorry. How rude of me. Himuro Tatsuya.”

The guy hummed but said nothing else. After a moment, Himuro’s eye twitched and his smile felt more and more forced with every passing second. Wasn’t the guy going to return the favor of introducing himself? He thought it was the Americans that were uncultured. He walked over to the cash register and placed the snack on the counter with a little more force than he intended. The pink-haired cashier widened her eyes at him slightly before moving her gaze to the guy behind him.

“Ah, Mukkun~! So good to see you! New friend? No snacks?”

“He’s not a friend, Sacchin, he’s a thief,” explained _Mukkun._

The girl cooed. “Aw, he took the last one? How mean~! Poor Mukkun…”

Tatsuya forced an awkward smile as the girl looked at him with a dangerous, calculating gleam in her eyes. Suddenly, she put a finger to her chin, as if she remembered something.

“Ah, wait, Mukkun! Let me call Dai-chan. Dai-chan! Dai-chaaaan!!!”

Suddenly, an angry looking guy appeared from the storage room and glared at the cashier. “What, Jesus Christ, pipe down, you lunatic!”

“Hmpf. It’s your fault for being so slow. Isn’t there anymore Cream Stew flavored Maiu-bo?”

“How should I know?!”

“Because it’s your _job_ to know?! Don’t tell me you fell asleep in there again! I’ll shave your eyebrows if you did, you spray-tanned blueberry!”

“I’m not _spray_ -tanned!” snapped the guy and disappeared behind the door.

Himuro started to feel really uncomfortable but the Mukkun guy seemed bored so perhaps it was a very common occurrence. The cashier smiled sweetly at him and before long, the guy came back with a few more snacks.

“Five more. Oi, Murasakibara, you want them all?”

Murasakibara nodded vehemently, reaching for the Maiu-bos. “Yes, good job, Minechin.”

“Don’t forget to pay for them, like the last time,” grumbled the guy. “I’m going back to sleep, don’t wake me up anymore, Satsuki!”

The girl stomped her foot and puffed out her cheeks, begrudgingly packing the snacks in the bag and handing them to Murasakibara. Somehow, Tatsuya ended up paying for all six of them, even though Murasakibara benevolently offered him only one.

Himuro kept walking in a daze until they reached the street court. He stopped and looked at Murasakibara expectantly, surprised the guy never stopped walking ahead.

“We’re not gonna play?” he blurted out, making Murasakibara stop and turn around.

“What for? I already have my snacks. Nothing to win. No reason to play.”

Tatsuya frowned, tightening his grip on the Maiu-bo, as if it was all its fault. “I see,” he gritted out, surprisingly disappointed.

“Are you gonna cry? That’s gross.”

Himuro snapped his head up, offended. “What?! I’m not crying!”

Murasakibara just stood there, staring at Tatsuya with an unreadable expression. Himuro’s shuffled awkwardly, again unreasonably uncomfortable under scrutiny.

“Huuuuh? That’s boring. I thought you were going to cry, Murochin.”

_“Murochin?!”_

Tatsuya figured that Murasakibara used this weird nickname system for his friends, but using it on him didn’t make sense, considering that they’d only met. _Unless_ it meant that Himuro had at least caught his interest in some way, which made him feel ridiculously smug for some unfathomable reason.

That logic didn’t make much sense, though, seeing as Murasakibara simply turned around and started walking again, completely disregarding Tatsuya, who briefly considered angrily throwing the damned Maiu-bo at the back of that thick, rude head.

"It’s Atsushi, by the way," said Murasakibara over his shoulder suddenly, seeming oddly embarrassed. “See you around, Murochin. Maybe you’ll have something I will want to win again.”

Himuro flushed, despite himself, fumbling for words. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, see ya, uh. Atsushi.”

He almost slapped his forehead with the snack, completely mortified and shocked with his own newly-acquired social incompetency. Atsushi tilted his head in confusion and shrugged after a while.

“Weird,” he concluded, and Tatsuya had to agree.


End file.
